Author's Note: This is another one of those situations which gets... tricky. Both this chapter and the next one. Genuinely curious to know what people think.

Dawn's POV

They should've told me.

I wipe the tears from my eyes before starting to climb up the side of the house to my bedroom window.

They should've told me but they didn't. How could they not tell me? They should've told me I wasn't real. That I was just some key the monks made into a pathetic little girl. Why didn't they tell me I wasn't real? Didn't they want me to know? Don't I deserve to know?

I look up at my window as I get about half way up and I have to wipe the tears from my eyes again.

Of course not, I'm just a stupid key. I don't really matter. I'm not worth...

My hand slips and I nearly drop the knife in it, and obviously almost fall too. I start to climb the rest of the way up.

It's almost a shame I didn't fall, at least that would've taught them a lesson. They would've found me lying on the ground, every bone in my body broken, probably dead. That would teach them to keep something like this from me.

I reach the top and climb in my window to my fake room.

That would make them sorry they ever lied to me.

As soon as I'm inside I head straight for the door and then the stairs, knife in hand.

They're gonna wish they never did this to me.

I stop just inside the living room and I see them sitting there like everything's fine. Every part of me feels like screaming.

"How could you not tell me?"

The three of them look at me and I just really want to hurt them.

"HOW COULD YOU NOT TELL ME?"

"Dawn?"

"You didn't think I was important enough? Is that it? I guess since I'm not real then I don't really matter do I?"

They get up to face me.

"Dawn, what are you talking about?"

I point the knife at Buffy.

"DON'T! Don't play stupid! You've been playing stupid all along, trying to make me think there was nothing going on. But there was something going on, and I knew there was something but you wouldn't tell me. You can't keep it from me anymore. None of you can, because I know now. I know the truth and you can't do anything about it. I know that I'm just a stupid key and my feelings don't really matter."

"That's not true."

"It is. It is true because if I was real then you would've told me the truth. You never would've lied to me."

Faith steps forward and I shove the knife at her, making her back off.

"Dawn, just put down the knife and we can talk about this."

I look down at the knife in my hand.

"Why? It's not like anything I do will ever matter."

I step forward and swing the knife, cutting the air.

"How do you even know I'm really holding it? Maybe you just think I am because it's what the monks want you to think. Did you think of that? I could do anything with this knife and it wouldn't really matter because nothing I do really matters."

Faith tries to come at me again and I swing at her.

"Dawn, calm down..."

I swipe at her again.

"SHUT UP! Just because you think you're my mother doesn't mean you can tell me what to do. I don't have a mother, I don't have ANYONE! I hate you!"

Buffy and Joyce stand next to her.

"I hate all of you!"

I attack Faith with the knife but she moves so fast the knife is out of my hands before I know it. She grabs me and puts her arms around me, my arms bent, trapped between us. She holds me tight and I just want to hurt her even more.

"Dawn, please..."

"No..."

I try and push her away.

"No, don't touch me."

I push her away harder.

"Let me go, don't touch me."

I push harder and she lets me go. I hit her with the palms of my fists.

"I hate you! I hate all of you!"

I hit her again and again as hard as I can, my eyes welling up.

"You should've told me!"

My knees go weak and I fall to the floor.

"You should've told me... why didn't you tell me?"

They don't say anything so I look up at them through my blurry eyes.

"Don't I mean anything to you?"

Joyce kneels down next to me.

"Of course you mean something to us sweetie, we love you."

I scoff at that, looking away.

"You can't love something that isn't real."

The two of them kneel down with her.

"You're real enough to us Dawn. You're really enough for us to love you. You're real enough for us not to care where you came from or how you got here."

"Dawn, maybe this isn't what you want to hear right now, but you are our daughter. We love you."

"Yeah, I'm a daughter who was lied to for my whole life..."

Buffy reaches out to touch me and I push her hand away.

"All three months of it..."

They don't say anything.

That's okay. They don't have to talk to something that isn't real.

"You should've told me."

"We know Dawnie, we're so sorry..."

I can't stand looking at these people anymore.

I stand up and back away.

"You should've told me."

"You're right, and we were going to tell you. That's what we were talking about when you came in just now. We were figuring out the best way to tell you."

"Maybe you should've talked about it earlier then eh? Maybe you should've been more honest with me instead of making me go nuts knowing there was something wrong with me but not knowing what it was."

"There's nothing wrong with you kid."

"I DON'T EXIST! What's RIGHT about THAT?"

Faith and Buffy try to approach me but I just back away even more.

"You do exist Dawn, you exist to us."

"No, I don't. You just want me to exist so I can be your DAUGHTER! Well guess what? I don't want to be your daughter. I don't want to be anyone's daughter. I just want to go back to not existing."

They try to come up to me.

"NO! Just LEAVE ME... ALONE!"

I turn and walk away, heading back to my room. I almost run into Spike on my way to the stairs. I make it up the stairs and they don't follow. I slam the door to my FAKE room and grab my hair, pulling on it to try and rip it out. I look around.

It's all fake, all of it. None of it really happened. None of it really matters because I don't really exist.

I grab the fake sheets and pull them off the fake bed and on to the fake floor of my fake room.

They should have told me the truth.

I take all the stuffed animals and pillows and throw them all over the place. I don't care where I just want to throw something.

But they didn't want to lose their PRECIOUS DAUGHTER. They knew that the second I found out the truth that they'd lose me. That I'd hate them for keeping this from me and they were right. That's exactly what happened. I HATE them. I hate them with every part of what I am.

I sit down on my bed and hug my knees.

How could they do this to me? How could they think it was okay to keep something like this from me? Screw it, I don't care how, they did it and that's all that matters.

I kick my nightstand over just because I wanna destroy something. It hits the floor and some of my fake stuff falls out... IT falls out. I stare at the little black box I've been hiding.

I wanted them to have that. I wanted them to use it to be happy.

I get off my bed and walk over to it on my knees. I pick it up and open it, staring at what's inside.

I made Mom buy it for them so they could be happy. But I don't want them to make it through this. I don't want them to be happy anymore. I want them to hurt, I want them to suffer and feel every bit as bad as I feel right now. I want...

I snap the box closed and throw it as hard as I can.

I just want to die.

The glass on my poster frame cracks as the box hits it. I stare at the cracks in the glass, at the cracks in my life.

It looks exactly like my life, broken, cracked, shattered. Except it's not my life.

I stand up and walk over to the poster, staring at the broken glass.

I'm not even real. I don't really matter. I'm just a key the monks made so Glory couldn't find me.

I take the frame off the wall and drop it on the floor glass first, breaking it completely.

Glory wants her precious key.

I kick the frame out of the way to get to the broken glass, picking up a piece.

THEY want their PRECIOUS daughter.

I walk over to my bed, rolling up my sleeves as I sit on it.

Well they aren't going to get either.

I turn the piece of glass so one of the edges is at the right angle, putting it against my wrist. I bite my lip as I start cutting.

Screw every last one of them.